He signed to the two sailors to withdraw, then turned to Heideck.
“This gentleman is a business friend. And I should like to know what I and my affairs have got to do with you at all. I am here to sell my herrings. I suppose that isn’t forbidden?”
“Certainly not. But if you have your business, mynheer, I have mine. And I think it would be pleasantest for both of us if we could settle the matter here at once without having to row over to the Gefion.”
“To the Gefion? What’s the meaning of that? What right have you to use force with me? My papers are in order; I can show them to you.”
“I should like to see them. But won’t you be kind enough to tell me this gentleman’s name? It is really of interest to me to make your business friend’s acquaintance.”
The second visitor now thought it advisable to introduce himself.
“My name is Camille Penurot,” said he; “I am a grocer in Breskens. Maaning Brandelaar has offered to sell me his cargo, and I have come with him to inspect the goods.”
“And no doubt night is the best time for that,” rejoined Heideck in a sarcastic tone, but with an imperturbably serious air. “Now let me see your papers, Mynheer Brandelaar.”
Just as he had expected, the papers were in perfect order. The fishing smack Bressay, owner Maximilian van Spranekhuizen of Rotterdam, sailing with a cargo of pickled herrings from Lerwick. Captain, Maaning Brandelaar. Attested by the English harbour officials at Lerwick. Everything perfectly correct.
“Very good,” said Heideck. “Rear-Admiral Sir Frederick Hollway of Dover has not endorsed them, but that was not necessary at all.”